


The Devil on Her Lips

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: #666foryou [638]
Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: F/F, Missing Scene, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9170698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: The Devil works in ways just as mysterious as Holy Father, and now she begins to understand what Jesus must have gone through in the desert.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 29 December 2016  
> Word Count: 491  
> Written for: Kryssikakes  
> Prompt: see quote below  
> Summary: The Devil works in ways just as mysterious as Holy Father, and now she begins to understand what Jesus must have gone through in the desert.  
> Spoilers: Missing scene, taking place during the events between episodes 01x07 "Abattoir" and 01x08 "Here Is Wisdom." Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Series: #666foryou  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/   
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Damien," "The Omen," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Glen Mazzara, David Seltzer, 20th Century Fox Television, Fox 21, and A&E Television Networks. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Damien," "The Omen," A&E, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Oh, I am _SO_ going to Hell for writing this one. And I have friends who wish I'd written even more on this than I did. The fact that it took me this far into the project to write this idea that's been dancing in the back of my brain from the beginning just proves… Well, I'm not sure what it proves exactly, but I think this is the only fic in the entire project that I'm nervous to post publicly. I guess this means I can resurrect my old nickname of "Mount Saint Spotty the Blasphemous" again. LOL 
> 
> And in the ultimate amusement factor, the Halestorm cover of Joan Jett's "I Hate Myself for Loving You" was playing while I wrote this fic.
> 
> Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of _Damien_ , both in front of and behind the camera.
> 
> Beta: theonlyspl

_"She tastes like every dark thought I've ever had."_  
\-- Holly Black, _White Cat_

 

"You really think you can save him, don't you?"

The words are uttered in a low, sensual tone that makes the hair on Greta's body stand on end. This isn't right. She tries -- and utterly fails -- to hide the evidence of her traitorous body from the other woman, but she refuses to let her reactions play out on her face. That would be far too much encouragement.

But encouragement for what exactly?

"I know I can save him," she replies, left eye twitching at how breathless she sounds. "I just need to adjust my approach."

The woman moves closer, a knowing smirk on lips as dark as spilled blood. "Oh come now, Sister, you know there isn't any validity to your claims. You have a very successful track record of exorcisms. This should be as innate to you as breathing." She pauses and those lips draw down into an almost playful moue. "And yet you failed spectacularly. In fact, you'll continue to fail until he realizes just what kind of thrill he can get out of accepting what Power offers him."

"No, I don't believe you."

She leans in until Greta can feel the tickle of her breath on a face grown too warm for comfort. "Perhaps I should just thank you now for making his destiny such a viable option for him."

Before Greta can reply, those darkly stained lips are on her own in a demanding display of power. She fights against the woman's grip, but is powerless to the onslaught of sensation coursing through her veins. The vulgarity of that slick tongue plundering her mouth offers vivid images of what it could do to other parts of her anatomy. She whimpers unconsciously as she is pressed against the wall; the cinderblocks keep her knees from giving out. She tries to bite down on that tongue, but can only feel her own stroking against it, body further swept away by the hormones overwhelming her senses.

The woman's hands seem to be in more than the possible two places on her body, lips biting aggressively down the column of her throat. A strangled wail of " _Mein Gott_ " escapes her lips as fingers glide through a surplus of wetness between her thighs.

~ ~ ~

Greta sits upright in bed with a low cry. Her body trembles, muscles clenching between her thighs as the unexpected orgasm scorches through her. Tears burn hotly on her cheeks, nipples painfully erect from the stimuli. It takes a couple of minutes before she can even move to get out of bed, then she hobbles to the communal bathroom, desperately in need of a long, cold shower. The prayers for forgiveness shape her lips as she tries to calm down.

The Devil works in ways just as mysterious as Holy Father, and now she begins to understand what Jesus must have gone through in the desert.


End file.
